Project X • Ethan Dolan

file 19;

f i n a l e ;

l e t t e r
_________

Year 1999.

Dear Ethan,

I will never forget the first time we'd met. It was on a rainy day, and you were literally naked on the middle of the street, seeking for a temporary shelter. But I did not judge you then. Somehow, somewhere in me knew you were innocent.

Weird feeling actually. So weird that I cannot bare to put it into words.

I brought you to my best friend's house. Gave you food and clothes, until you were back to your original state. I did not want you to go then, even if you were ready to leave.

When you opened your eyes and saw me that morning, I bet you could see through me- the so called pain in disguise. All because a little boy in the shape of a man, did not appreciate me for who I was.

It's funny now, thinking about how I thought what love and pain really were.

I taught you the basics of human life, but you managed to teach me the essentials. You showed me what living really was, how curiosity pushed you to increase your knowledge and discover something new everyday.

You made me realize how the material things do not compare at all and not even a little bit, to the beauty that surrounds us; the little things in life, the memories and the small moments in our lives, the only real stuff that truly mattered.

I hoped for our fairytale to last for the rest of our lives, to the moment we'd draw our last breath, and it would have turned into a beautiful tragedy, or maybe even a romance, where we'd get our happy ending.

Although, I sort of forgot, that not all fairtytales were like that.

I keep recalling the night we had escaped that terrifying building. We were riding on a motorcycle, on full speed.

My arm was broken, and your leg was injured, yet we tried to keep fighting to the best of our abilities. We were determined we would make it, and I believed we would make it.

But one bullet is all it took for our dreams to be crushed.

The motorcycle had exploded from beneath me, and the pressure sent us flying. We landed on different spots of the hard concrete ground. I took the worst damage, for my body was too weak to keep on going.

You, on the other hand was still conscious, alive only to wish for death once you laid eyes on my unconscious self. But you couldn't go near me, because your broken leg wouldn't allow you to do so.

I could somehow hear you crying over me, calling for me like your life depended on it. It was then that they caught us, and decided to execute me by giving me a lethal injection that would stop my heart from beating any more.

As for you, you were dragged into your old asylum room, caged and locked up to get you back on your proper training. You kept shedding tears, punching walls and screaming your lungs out as if you were the one to blame for my death.

It hurt me to see you this way; full of nothing but anger, solely because you thought you could have saved me.

Loneliness only managed to ruin you completely, mentally and physically. You would not talk then, not even to your fellow siblings, nor the nurses that came to visit you. Whenever you'd kill one of their assistants out of ire, you'd be punished by starvation, or by worse.

But you did not care.

Your face gradually became like one of theirs, emotionless and weary. You would only gain emotion, whenever you were shown clips of the moments I was tortured in the same room, with the aim of increasing the range of your psychic abilities.

It worked, but it would still hurt you, so much that it would cause your nose to bleed, and your lips quiver in misery. This was hell, in one of its truest forms.

My soul never rested in peace, as I watched over you every day, hoping you'd manage to escape the institution like you did before with me.

And then, a miracle happened.

The moment they were training you to wander the different dimensions of our world, you found me all alone.

For the first time in five months, I had witnessed you smile, and it was perhaps, the happiest I had ever been.